


All Good Things

by Rose Argent (roseargent)



Category: No. 6 (Anime & Manga), No. 6 - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Reunions, Showers, Wet Clothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:09:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28145136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roseargent/pseuds/Rose%20Argent
Summary: In the midst of a crisis for No. 6, Nezumi returns to Shion's side.
Relationships: Nezumi/Shion (No. 6)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 41
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	All Good Things

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Marbylous](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marbylous/gifts).



> Happy holidays! I hope you enjoy the story. 
> 
> This was interesting to write--it's a well-mined topic, for sure, and I hope I managed to put my own spin on it. 
> 
> The title, too, has been done about a thousand times, but I like it for the duality of how the saying can be finished. Some good things come to an end, and others come to those who wait. Sounds about right for these two.

Nezumi knew that he was circling No. 6, spiralling in closer and back out again, never too far. It was like he was on a long line, the other end tied to the heart of the city he'd hated for so long, the city he'd helped break. The city he'd helped save. He also knew it wasn't really the city itself that kept him from wandering too far, never so far that he couldn't get back in time if he was needed. 

There was plenty to see within the limits of his invisible boundaries. Years went by in a blink, and he still hadn't run out of new things to see. But every one of them, every amazing and glorious and filthy and heartbreaking thing, his first thought was, _I want to see Shion's face when I tell him about this._

It was a sickness. A chain. A chain he'd slipped around his own neck, in the end. A chain he wouldn't give up for anything. But he couldn't quite bring himself to go back. Not yet. There was still so much, so many places he'd never imagined. Just a little longer of being free as the wind. He had to store it all away in his heart, a lifetime of stories and songs. A lifetime of things to sustain him once the trap closed on his leg, once he let it because it was a beautiful trap. Terrifying, but beautiful. 

And he wanted to see what Shion would make of No. 6. He wanted to give him time to make something of it, to turn it into a place he could live with. Live in. If a place existed that could hold him, it would be the one Shion made for him. 

Until then, he circled the city, waiting for the wind to tell him when the time was right.

~~

Shion dragged the back of his hand across his forehead, trying to wipe away the grime and the sweat, but all he did was smear it around more. Turning his face into the driving rain would help, but he couldn't stop for long enough to do it just now. 

The rainy season, worse than any year previous, had turned into a war of sorts for the reconstruction council. Some part of the city flooded almost every day, small ones at first, damaging a few streets worth of houses or businesses. Then the rain just kept coming. The maintenance drones did their best, but there was just so much water--the city's systems, however well-designed, were overwhelmed by this once-in-a-century event; some whispered that it was the bad old days come back, a return to the chaos before No. 6 was built, but Shion didn't think so. The people remaining in the caverns beneath the city had had to be evacuated above ground, staying with their fellows in the forest for now. The former West Block--just a residential neighbourhood like any other, now, and simply called City West--was ironically faring better than the heart of the city. The city's broad rivers overflowed, washing out the bridges that everyone needed to get anywhere. 

They'd had to resort to old technology, if you could even call it that, after the first week. Sandbags had been manufactured and distributed, but not enough maintenance drones could be diverted from their usual tasks so it came down to physical, human labour to get the sandbags piled into levees. Shion went wherever they were most shorthanded. People gave him odd looks at first, shocked to see him there in person, but as the work went on no one had time or energy to care. Other members of the reconstruction council were doing the same thing, but most of them were a little less recognisable than Shion, especially with the uncertain lighting of the storm. 

Shion had made a mental note of the members that had stayed safe and dry in the high-rises. Technically it wasn't their job to be here in person. They couldn't be removed from their positions for choosing not to go above and beyond, but Shion would remember. He suspected the others down here with him would remember, too. 

Water lapped over the top of the half-built levee, and Shion threw his shoulder against the wobbling pile. "Over here! We need to shore up this spot!"

What would Nezumi think, to see him now? He'd been in worse states, covered in worse things than mud, but stacking heavy, wet sandbags was a whole new kind of physical labour, even compared to the things he'd done to get by in the old West Block. He went to bed every night aching in every muscle he had and then got up to do it all again the next day. His administrative tasks were falling by the wayside, his inbox shrilling urgent messages at him every time he found a moment to log in, but none of that was worth anything if the city washed away under his feet. 

More people rushed over to steady the levee, widening the base with more sandbags before adding new ones to the top. Once it was stable Shion pulled back, dragging wet hair out of his eyes as he looked for the next weak spot. 

Miraculously, there didn't seem to be any. The rain was starting to ease off, too, though the weather predictions said it would be back again tomorrow. And the next day. They didn't foresee this clearing up for another three to four days yet, and Shion wondered if they'd make it through without any more loss of life. The levees were working, for now, but they hadn't been fully assembled everywhere yet. 

A hand clapped him on the shoulder and Shion winced, his sore muscles protesting. But he managed to smile up at the worker who'd done it as the man passed by. Raising his voice to be heard over the rushing water, Shion called out, "Good work, everyone! I think we're clear here, for now. If you think you have more left in you for today, report to one of the central marshalling points and see if they have any assignments for you. Everyone else, get some rest." Shion would definitely be in that latter category, himself. As much as he wanted to be out here, he could feel his body protesting. He'd be no good to anyone if he keeled over. 

Friendly, if still slightly tentative, waves and quiet nods of acknowledgement followed him as he made his way back to his house. Since it was set a little back from any of the waterways he hadn't had any problems yet, but anything that wasn't a high rise was at risk at this rate. 

He could hear the rain, as he walked into his room. A flash of lightning told him that the balcony doors were thrown wide, curtains billowing in the wind, and Shion's hand froze on the light switch. 

~~

Anything Nezumi had planned to say flew right out of his head when he saw Shion come into the room. "What the hell, Shion! You look like death!"

Shion blinked at him owlishly in the dim room, swaying a little on his feet. "Uh..."

He'd heard about the flooding, and it was like that invisible line snapped taut, drawing him into the city whether he liked it or not. He expected to find Shion hard at work, yes, but in an office! Maybe giving a rousing speech from a balcony. Definitely not... whatever he'd been doing to look like he'd been drowned, chewed up, and spit back out. Twice.

Pulling a blanket from the bed, Nezumi went to Shion and wrapped it around him, hustling him towards the bathroom. Shion went without protest, his mouth still opening and closing silently, like words were too much work for his tired brain. 

The last time Nezumi had seen Shion looking half this bad... didn't bear thinking about. He got them into the bathroom and turned the lights up, finally getting a good look at Shion's eyes. He was a little dazed, definitely, but there was no trace of that cold, broken look there now. Nezumi let out the breath he'd been holding, not even bothering to scold himself for sighing for someone else's sake. That ship had sailed long ago. 

"Nezumi." Shion finally got a word out, his voice breathy and unsteady. 

Hearing his name from those lips, after all this time, something inside Nezumi did a nauseating little flip, and he wrapped the blanket tighter around Shion, covering his face for a moment. One word, just his name, and he felt the jaws of the trap snap shut for good. He definitely couldn't look at that face just yet.

"Come on, idiot. Let's get you warm. What were you even doing, to get like this?"

"Sandbags." The word came out a little hoarse, but Shion cleared his throat and when he continued he sounded steadier, more confident. "It was all we had left to try. All our advanced systems were completely swamped. So we just. Pile sandbags to hold the water back."

Nezumi was pretty sure that a fancy-pants member of the reconstruction council was supposed to have people to do that kind of work for him, but as his hand closed around Shion's upper arm to guide him towards the shower, he felt corded muscle that hadn't been there before. (It had been five years, of course Shion had changed, but Nezumi had still been seeing that slender 16-year old in his mind's eye, all this time).

Not that Shion wasn't still pretty damn slender. Nezumi got the water running, letting the shower run at whatever temperature Shion had programmed in, and tossed aside the now sodden and filthy blanket. Shion's clothes weren't in a much better state. Choosing speed over saving the clothes, because Shion's skin was like ice, Nezumi just shoved him bodily into the shower, clothes and all. 

When the hot water hit him, Shion gasped and straightened up a little, calling out indignantly. "Nezumi!"

Being drenched by hot water instead of cold didn't make Shion look any less drowned, but it brought some colour back to his face and obviously gave him some of his spirit back. Nezumi finally felt like he had time to get a good look at what had become of his... of Shion. Leaning back against the bathroom wall, he gave Shion a grin and looked him up and down with slow thoroughness. 

The thin fabric of his shirt was basically transparent, at this point, so Nezumi got more of a look than he'd expected. Still thin and pale, the crimson snake winding around his torso stood out in sharp relief. But there was a width to his shoulders that Nezumi didn't remember, a definition to muscles that had been city-soft last time he'd seen Shion.

Nezumi swallowed, the whole picture hitting him like a bat to the head. _Still beautiful_. "Hey, you grew up a bit, short stuff."

~~

Shion felt the hot water start to melt away the chill in his bones. It was all he could do to stay upright as his muscles tried to turn liquid from the relief. He didn't quite know what the look on Nezumi's face meant, and any thought of puzzling it out went out of his head when the other man spoke. They were the same height! Or almost. Or they had been. Nezumi looked taller, too, but not _that_ much taller--they were probably still pretty close.

None of that was what he'd wanted to say when he saw Nezumi again, but he hadn't expected their reunion to happen in the shower. Fully clothed, in the shower. "I'm never going to be able to salvage these clothes."

Nezumi shrugged, and even that casual movement was all feral grace. Just like Shion had remembered him. 

"It's just synthetic stuff, anyway. Not hard to replace."

That was true, but Shion had liked this shirt and somehow there were still subtle differences in every batch, even when it was made to the same pattern. 

Absolutely none of this mattered, because Nezumi was _here_ , but Shion's exhausted brain had just fallen back into their old rhythms like days had passed instead of years. 

The way Nezumi was still looking him over made Shion want to cover himself, which was ridiculous. He'd bared his skin in front of entire crowds, to prove a point, and here he was wanting to hide from this man who had seen more of him than anyone else living, both inside and out. He was _here_. He was back. 

Shion clenched his fists, suddenly overwhelmed by an intense need to chain Nezumi to him, wrap him up so tight that he could never leave again. It wasn't right, but it was what he felt, a need as powerful as any he'd ever experienced before.

What he _said_ was only, "I need to get out of these clothes."

A short, awkward pause, and then Nezumi smirked. "Who's stopping you?"

Shion felt heat crawl up his neck and stain his cheeks. "I'm not stripping in front of you!"

"Why not?" Nezumi cocked his head, his face a perfect study in innocent confusion. _Actors_. 

"You're still dressed! It's weird!" That wasn't why, but it was the reason that came out. Shion regretted the words as soon as he saw Nezumi's eyes light up. 

"Fair." And, with no further warning, Nezumi started to strip out of his own clothes. 

Shion felt like he should look away--it was the polite thing to do--but the rules were obviously gone right out the window, now. So he watched, helplessly entranced. Nezumi was still leanly muscled but a little bigger in the shoulders, a little more... everything, really. Shion's fingers twitched with a need to touch, to trace every new scar and muscle. 

When Nezumi was bare to the waist, he paused, looking at Shion with an eyebrow raised. 

Wait, was it his turn? How had their first meeting in five years turned into this? But fair was fair. (The thought seemed to make sense, in the moment, but Shion suspected he would find it hideously embarrassing later). Unaccountably nervous, Shion unbuttoned his ruined shirt, letting it fall to the floor in a sad puddle. He felt himself crossing his arms over his belly, defensively, and forced himself to let them fall to his sides. 

Nezumi's face did another thing that Shion couldn't identify, and then Nezumi was across the room in two long strides and his hands were on Shion's hips. His voice was hoarse as he said, "I think this is where we stop for today."

~~

Nezumi had meant it as a game, just a little teasing at Shion's shyness. But something about the trust and the _challenge_ in Shion's eyes as that shirt fell to the floor... it was too much. 

Shion looked up at him--though, truthfully, not by much--his cheeks still red but his gaze unwavering. "That seems like a good idea. We have a lot to talk about."

Laughing, as much at himself as anything else, Nezumi closed his eyes and rested his forehead against Shion's. "Five years worth. This isn't how I meant this to go." It was a little how he meant it to go, but all confused and out of order. 

"Let me finish getting cleaned up, and then we can talk." Shion's lips were so close to his, and all Nezumi wanted was to kiss him. A "hello" kiss, a fulfillment of a promise. But this wasn't the time and it definitely wasn't the place, so he let Shion go and turned to leave the bathroom. 

"Wait for me?" Shion called out to him as his hand was on the door. A simple request, but Nezumi heard the rattle of chains in the words. He knew what Shion was really asking. 

"I'll be here." For as long as Shion needed him. Forever, if that was what it took. And the chains settled around him, but they didn't feel as suffocating as he'd expected. Strangely, he felt the wind flow through him, wild and free. 

Later, they lay face to face on Shion's bed, just as they had that night so long ago. They were a lot less bloodied, a little less wounded, but they fit together more smoothly than they had before, their rough edges worn down just enough to match. 

Nezumi watched Shion drift into sleep, his fingers entwined with Nezumi's, his lips curved in a faint smile as he listened to Nezumi whispering tales of strange places and people into his ear. Halting mid-sentence as Shion fell fully asleep, Nezumi kissed the tips of Shion's perfect fingers. He could pick the story back up in the morning. He could repeat it, repeat all his stories, as many times as Shion wanted to hear them. 

The sound of the rain finally fell into silence as Nezumi closed his eyes and joined Shion in sleep. 

-fin-


End file.
